


Feel Okay

by gothnidai



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Depression, F/M, Gen, Iruma's vulgar mouth, NDRV3 Spoilers, Self Harm, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:29:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothnidai/pseuds/gothnidai
Summary: NDVR3 SPOILERSIruma's riding the big fame wave, free booze, free sex. She feels wanted and if this is the only way to feel loved and maybe stop feeling so shitty, she’ll keep doing it.





	Feel Okay

**Author's Note:**

> All spoilers for NDVR3, so you're warned. Spoilers from Iruma's FTEs to the entire game etc etc.
> 
> Set post NDVR3.

Team Dangan Ronpa encourage them to watch their own season, and to partake in a couple of dumb fan meet and greets.

On camera, in person, Iruma can pull it all out. The first meet and greet has them split up into smaller tables to try and control crowds. The line at Amami and Kaede’s table is unreal, there isn’t as many people for Chapters 2 and 3 - nothing to be sniffed at, but there’s a dent. Nothing compared to Tsumugi and Angie’s lines - there’s practically no one to see them.

But the line at their table is by far the longest. Iruma knows herself and Ouma are in the top 5 in the popularity poll. It’s dizzying to see the amount people who want to see the two of them alone. Gonta isn’t as high ranking as they are, but he still has his group of extreme fans.

And by extreme, she means _hardcore_. When Iruma glanced to him in between the pushy fans, she saw some really fucked up fanart. The stuff she’s getting is what she expected, basic hentai and tits and ass poses, but the torture porn he’s getting would bit too much for even TV Iruma Miu.

She’s surprised she came 4th in the popularity poll. It’s not good or bad, it’s just… there, hanging above her. This other self is adored (and _hated_ ) by so many people. It shakes her, seeing all that negativity online at first. But that doesn’t stop her from being the all cocky, all smarts, and all beautiful Iruma Miu for the fans (and the money Team Dangan Ronpa are paying her for the public appearance doesn’t hurt).

She can hear herself booming _Of course you want to met the amazing inventor Iruma! Of course, I’m any hot blooded person’s favourite!_ Signing shirts, signing tits, asking _which part was your favourite, what did you like the most, this season was something else, yeah?_ The huge line at their table isn’t stopping and it only seems more and more people are joining. It’s crazy. It can’t be real. Wearing this smile that’s going to crack off at any moment and laughing at how ridiculous this whole spectacle is. Everytime she looks beside her, she’s overcome with the urge to smash Ouma’s face into the stupid Monokuma pens over and over again until they go through his eyes and his neck, till he bleeds and Iruma’s satisfied. People keep asking for group photos, _chapter 4 was my favourite_ , _what a twist! You’re my favourite, you have great boobs, your death was a let down, for a fanservice character I wasn’t expecting much from you, you’re a total bitch, can i touch your tits? I want to be like you, you’re the best._

She takes a loo break halfway through the meet and greet, locks herself in the cubicle and she can’t stop crying.

\--

Iruma knows she should feel happy. Satisfied. She came out on top! Sure, she died - but, she was still one of the most popular. Everyone knows it isn’t about winning, it’s the popularity game. Can you stay in it for the long run? Can you keep up season after season. There’s a reason why Junko is still the face of Dangan Ronpa, she’s constantly posting online, facebook, twitter, doing interviews. Shit, Junko died each and every time, but they kept bringing her back. Anything for ratings.

Iruma deletes all her online accounts. She sat at home the day they’d all been cleared from NDRV3 and scrolled endlessly through reviews and comments on her facebook. She tried to post something, _anything_. But all she really wants to do is sink down into nothingness. Forget it all ever happened. It’s all so embarrassing.

It makes her furious. She’s Iruma fucking Miu! She’s a genius. She’s a plain nobody. She’s everyone’s favourite. She’s lonely. It’s like she has two people inside her, the old Iruma and the tv Iruma. They’re not fighting against each other, they’re mixed together. Swirled together with no real face. There’s no spark in either of them.

Iruma’s not sure she wants to be like them anymore. The old Iruma wanted to be someone, anyone. Make a name for herself while taking out the rest of the cast, going out in blood and glory. She got what she wanted.

Iruma had found the scrap of paper she’d scribbled her goals on when she’d gotten the skype confirmation call from Team Dangan Ronpa.

 

  * __Get a 1/8th figure done by Myethos__


  * _Kill someone_



 

The old Iruma is so close, but so far away. She can remember feeling giddy. It was like a dream come true. Her whole life was going to change!

Iruma huffs, she was so stupid. What did she honestly think was going to happen? She even read up on old seasons, what happened to the survivors and contestants after their seasons had ended- the horror stories, but she told herself she;d be different. Well, she mused, it did change. Yet, she can’t make herself feel like it was worth it.

Now Iruma can’t connect back to that time. She can’t feel anything when she reads the slip of paper. It just _is_. She wants it to make her feel sick. But all she does is shrug and toss the piece in the bin.

(Later she digs it out, re-reads it, and tears it up into tiny pieces. It doesn’t relax her.)

\--

“Cuckhara,” Iruma said, nearly whacking herself in the forehead as she attempts to recall his name. “C’mon, you must remember! He was the main guy!!”

K1B0 V.2 beeps.

So she built herself a K1B0. So what.

K1B0 V.2 was also a dog. One of those stuffy doctors they had at Team Dangan Ronpa’s office had made a remark about therapy pets. Iruma had scoffed. She wasn’t traumatized or anything by some glitchy VR tech.

But the idea was planted. Iruma hated thinking this, but she’s semi-thankful to Team DanganRonpa, she’s kept some of her SHSL Inventor talent. Building and fixing things is now a hobby. She liked it before, but now there’s this drive behind every screw and bolt in place. It took some time, but it was a nice distraction. Drawing up the blueprints was fun, and even with the programming; it came to her naturally.

K1B0 V.2 didn’t have legs, he had a boxy body and wheeled around - working dog legs were a bit too tricky with the timing and stance for Iruma at present. She couldn’t get four legs to work, so K1B0 V.2 kept pathetically falling down, unable to get back up. So wheelie Keeby it was.

It didn’t mean anything, it’s not like she put that much effort in. Some parts were a little difficult, but she followed along with some youtubers diy, along with other reddit tutorials and her own ingenuity. Sure, it was a pain trying to get the wire mesh to look and act like K1B0’s ahoge, and she painstakingly painted her version the exact colours at the original. But it was just a pet project, for fun.

“Cuckharaaaaaaa…” She trails off, frustrated and refusing to take down the word blocks on her computer to double check his dumb name. She flops harder on the sofa, the name is right in front of her and she just needs to get it _out_.

“Suckadickichi!!” Iruma cries, snapping herself forward and looking at K1B0 expectantly.

K1B0 V.2 beeps once again. Another no.

Iruma knows this K1B0 doesn’t have a very advanced A.I, but she can’t help herself from projecting the old K1B0 onto it. Why can’t they just get it?

Iruma sinks deeper into the sofa, bringing her knees up to hold herself. She knows this K1B0 can’t see, but she still wants to have some coverage. “Do you remember anyone else?”

K1B0 V.2 beeps.

Iruma tells herself of course they don’t remember, they’re not K1B0. But it’s like someone has control of her mouth, she can’t stop.

Her own voice startles her, it’s disjointed and far away, “Do you remember me?”

K1B0 V.2 doesn’t respond immediately and Irumas heart leaps. Could this be that this K1B0 actually remembers her?

Beep. _No._

She throws her cushion at the robot, it bounces off uselessly.

\--

Gonta comes over to visit.

Iruma doesn’t really get why he does. There’s other people who will probably act more interested, like Whorimiko. First she tries ignoring him, but Kunto must’ve talked to some of the higher ups of Team Dangan Ronpa, so now she has to let Gonta in, or they act like she’s ‘ _cutting off from other’s attempts at friendship_ ’ or ‘ _putting herself in isolation_ ’ and if she continues doing so, they’ll make her go to to forced counselling.

Iruma quickly decides Gonta isn’t that bad.

They don’t even talk that much. They've both skittered around the whole Chapter 4 shitshow. Iruma guesses that he feels guilty, even though she’s said she doesn’t care. But it didn’t stop her from asking him the first time he came in whether if he’d bothered to learn his rights and lefts.

It didn’t go down well.

This arrangement has been going on for the last few weeks. At first she thought he was spying on her for the others, Gonta would be roped into doing something like that. Iruma can’t think of any other reason.

Maybe they’re doing this with everyone else as well, Iruma laughs at the idea of Miss Andary and Shitguuji trying to talk about dumb feelings. Titko would deck him in the face.

Or maybe everyone’s sick of Gonta too. Birds of a feather and all that crap.

She’s gotten used his presence in her room. It’s kinda nice to talk out loud and get a human response, even if it’s not that smart. She glares at K1B0 V.2, it’s so much better then the beeping. She disabled that feature.

But it’s eating away at her. She can’t figure out why. She’s learnt that people always want something, whether it's for her brain or

 _Oh_. Iruma clenches her eyes and mouth shut tightly, _of course_. It’s never any different. She grinds her teeth, she can’t stop herself recently, she gnashes them in her sleep. They fucking ache. She’s so fucking angry and ashamed.

“Did ya like my tits that one time? Is _that_ why you’re here?”

Gonta nearly knocks his rhinoceros beetle onto the floor.

“If you're that desperate to wank off, go look at your own stuff. A living goddess like Iruma Miu needs to be worshiped before I even consider lowerin’ my standards to a braindead neandertal like you,” Iruma’s on a roll, all this angry springing out of nowhere, just waiting for the first unfortunate target to fire itself off at.

“No!” Gonta recovers quickly from his shock, trying to get a word in before Iruma says something she’ll regret. “Gonta would no do-”

“You know how to switch on a computer, right? Ya don’t need my help. Learnt your lesson after last time.” Iruma wishes her voice wasn’t wobbling, she hates getting into even slight disagreements. She feels sick, she feels furious.   

“Yes, Gonta does,” He sounds hurt, but he doesn’t meet her eyes for that one. “From before, Gonta knows-”

“Ya look yourself up first?“ She quizzes. His face flushes. It wasn’t even a hard guess, everyone does.

Iruma doesn’t even know where she’s going with this, she just wants to fight. “Ya have some perverted fans, I saw it. At that meet and greet. It’s probably because you don’t wear proper underwear, people think you’re some sort of fetishist.”

Gonta’s face falls, feigning interest in his beetle currently crawling along on the floor instead of Iruma. “Gonta shouldn’t have trusted Ouma,” He stated, quietly. _(No shit, really?!)_ “People only like Gonta, because Ouma…” He trails off again, Iruma’s pretty sure he could set the stag beetle of fire with how intensely he’s staring at it.

“It doesn’t matter to Gonta. A gentleman… should be able to provide a proper, hearty response to his fans, no matter what...”

It’s not working, she can see how upset he’s getting and how hollow that all sounded. She tells herself she doesn’t care.

“You tellin’ me that fucked up porn doesn’t bother you?” Iruma scoffs, “ _I_ can take it, I know people can’t help but lust over my god-given body! It’s practically a given.”

“I, uh- Gonta not,” He looks tired, talking himself in circles. “That not what Gonta meant-!”

“Well, out with it!” Iruma snaps, she’s going to really lose it if he can’t make out one full sentence.

Gonta starts gripping his knees tight. Really tight. Iruma’s sure he could crack his kneecaps wide open. They're shaking with both the pressure he’s giving and his legs can’t seem to stop jittering.

Iruma’s kinda starting to get freaked out. She’s so lost on what is going on, her face scrunching up. Before she has a chance to think it through she’s already started blurting out,

“What… What the fuck are you doin’?”

It comes out a with more force than she wanted, but it’s too late it take it back now.

Gonta blinks, robotically removing his hands from where they were wielded to his kneecaps. “Gonta’s sorry, he no thinking.”

Finally, Iruma’s conscience catches up with her. She feels her stomach drop, all her anxiety from fighting and all the horrible possibilities that were running in the back of her head coming to the front. She shouldn’t have said all that, she knew it was wrong. She’s clearly after upsetting Gonta for no reason other than because she wanted to. She’s going to turn into Ouma at this point.

Guilt is nibbling away at her, making her sweat. She pulls her knees closer to her on the sofa, “Ummm..” She tries to fill the sudden silence. She spots Gonta’s beetle crawling onto his pant’s leg. “What’s your bug saying to you?”

Gontas fussing with his hair, she barely momentary gets distracted by it. She barely catches Gonta’s muffled response.

“I don’t know.”

Wait, no, he's pulling at it, plucking out strand after strand and Iruma’s super freaked out.

She’s scared. Suddenly she’s reminded about how weak she is. Team Dangan Ronpa might’ve implanted them with fake memories, but you can’t fake picking up a 110 lb manhole. You can’t fake choking someone to death. She can’t breathe, she needs some air, christ, it got really stuffy in here.

Iruma tears off her necklaces, she can’t stand the clammy feeling against her neck. It’s baking in here. She has to get out, get some cool air. It doesn’t matter that it’s pouring down outside, she needs to leave.

Iruma’s sick of thinking about this, she’s got to go. On shaky legs, she makes her way to the door. She nearly trips over her own feet in her rush, fumbling with the handle and finally opening her front door. She knows Gonta still there, but she can’t think of anything else right now. All her mind is focused on is screaming at her is to leave.

Iruma can’t even remember walking outside, the chill of the rain waking her out of her hyperfocused mind. She blinks, and quickly makes her way to get shelter under a tree. She thinks she must look like a drowned rat by now, her hair is plastered to her skull. She attempts to do damage control. Iruma gathers her hair up and starts to wring it out, twisting and pulling. She suddenly feels a pang in her chest, she’s upset again.

Gonta…

Iruma shakes her head, trying to gather her thoughts through the fog. She feels… bad? She doesn’t feel good, that’s for sure. But she can’t figure out how bad she feels, she just is. Trying to chase her thoughts is taking too much energy. She feels stupid and she should probably apologize, she hates this shit eating at her. She feels worse when she remembers she left Gonta by himself.

Making up her mind, Iruma sets off back to their apartments. Her feet hurt and she’s damp to the bone, she’s definitely going to catch a cold. She didn’t realise she walked so far, and she’s surprised she didn’t bump into any weirdo stalker fans out her by herself. What was she thinking, running out like that?

She makes it back, aching and tired. And Iruma thought walks were supposed to help with your mood or something. Her entire body throbbed with exhaustion, but she’s determined to see this through.

She pauses before opening her door, suddenly afraid again. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen. Gonta’s going to hate her, yell at her, probably waited there the whole time, getting more and more angry, probably told everyone how she’s a paranoid, horrible mess. Iruma blinks rapidly, trying to collect herself. She nearly loses her grip on the doorknob, not noticing how damp her hands were. Before she chickens out, she opens the door and peeks inside.

Oh.

Gonta’s gone.

Good, she didn’t want him coming over again anyway.

\--

It’s 3:43am. Even with all the covers kicked off her bed, Iruma can’t fall asleep. She tries to blame the heat, but even the great Iruma can’t ignore the soft patter of rain against her window.

 _I have to check_ , she thinks, _I have to see_. It’s okay if it’s just to make sure. When she checks then she can fall asleep, for sure.

She rubs her eyes, red from staring at her phone for the past 20 minutes, trying to find a distraction from _thinking_ and _feeling_. Or rather, the helpless feeling she gets when she’s alone for too long, when she realises she can't feel anything.

She stumbles out of bed, nearly braining herself on her boots scattered on the floor. She slowly threads through the empty packets of ramen and clothes, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Iruma finally makes it to her desk, and digs through her toolbox for what will stop this thought right in its tracks.

Iruma pauses. She should go back to bed, forget all about this. This is stupid, something she shouldn’t do. Something someone like her wouldn’t do but...

Even after telling herself time and time again, that the whole cyborg thing was complete and utter bullshit that only someone titless and fugly like Tsumugi could come up with, that she got that scar from a cycling accident, that even in NDRV3 it was still made up -

Iruma had tried scratching her legs and thighs up, but all that had left was angry red marks. Iruma could shrug those off. She needed something deeper.

She presses the scalpel into the flesh of her palm. The pain feels far away and she can’t stop the way her heart starts booming in her chest. Blood (oh please let it be blood) is rushing through her ears, making the room spin around her. She takes a step forward, trying to ground herself.

Iruma clenches her eyes tight, and gives the scalpel more force. She wonders if it's even sharp enough to pierce her skin. Taking a breath, she slashes the side of her palm. It’s like a strong pinch. She stares at it for a moment, letting the quiet of the room calm her back down.

She drops the scalpel back onto the table, and pinches the cut. She can’t see in the dark, so she brings it close to her face. She breathes in deep, the tang of iron rises to meet her.

It’s blood.

 _Of course it’s blood!_ Of course it is. The night makes delusions and fear worse, she knew that. Iruma blinks and wipes her hand in her shirt. She’ll wash it tomorrow. But now she can sleep.

\--

One day, Iruma cracks. Her curiosity got to her, the itch growing too severe in her head.

She shuts off her pageblock, and types in _Iruma Miu x K1B0 fanfiction_. The first link brings her onto a popular fanfiction site.

She quickly scrolls down to the bottom of the page, barely reading anything on her way down. She feels annoyed, there’s only 20ish works in the tag. Even then, most of them aren’t central on what Iruma wants to read (Even _thinking_ “Iruma x K1B0” feels dumb). Iruma scrolls back up to the top, sighing. She’s in this for the long haul now. She frowns at the descriptions, some of the shipping choices make her feel odd. _Who the fuck ships Tenkouma?_

Before, Iruma was into pretty much anything labeled R, but now it’s too personal. She knows those people. Iruma huffs, mentally correctly herself, she knew those characters.

She finds one that seems to fit the bill. It’s just about her (not her, she corrects herself again.) and K1B0, a random dating fluff fic. Iruma wants to stomp down the mix of excitement and hope that grow in her heart. She tells herself it’ll be funny. It’ll be out of character, she’ll get a kick out of the crazy fans and then block the pages again. Easy. She just wanted to prove to herself that she was okay, she was over K1B0. He didn’t even exist in the end (Neither did she, and, late at night, she thinks they never had anything between them, they could never have.).

Moments later, halfway through, Iruma has tears streaming down her face, her breathing heavy.

It's not like it's goddamn Shakespeare. The work isn’t even trying to be that deep, but Iruma can’t stop crying. She ends up reading the same sentence again and again.

_“I love Iruma Miu!”_

She wants K1B0 to say that to her. She wants to hear him again, she doesn't care what he says. He could even tell her about about his oppression and robophobia and she’d cry with joy.

She freezes, it hurts to breathe because she’s crying too much and it hurts because she feels so guilty. What if her last to him were about sex or making fun of fucking no tits Tenko or the fucking dildo scene they edited out of the show? Why couldn’t she have said something meaningful? She never said anything meaningful at all!

Iruma lets herself sob. She couldn’t stop if she tried. The sleeves of hoody are getting all clogged up with snot and tears. She knows her face must be a mess, all ugly and red.

She eventually runs out of tears, but still keeps going until her breathing finally calms. She hiccups. She still feels weak, and she knows she needs to drink water. She doesn’t feel better, but she feels lighter. She sniffles again, still shaky.

Before she closes the page, she has one more thing she has to know. She clicks onto K1B0’s tag, and then filters it to see the most popular fiction. She goes by views, knowing that if it’s worth re-reading it should be decent.

The page loads up in a millisecond, and Iruma scrolls down in trepidation. The most viewed work on K1B0’s tag is something called _Let it all Go_. Iruma assumes it’s angst or something, but then she blinks at the amount of tags. Is it one of those different ship per character fic? That would explain why it was so popular.

Then she sees the main tags.

Ah. It’s a fetish fic… It’s a piss fiction.

She physically has to stop herself from reading it. She scans through the relationship tags again, her heart pounding. K1B0 x… Ouma? Herself x Ouma?! Is this … an Ouma focused fetish fanfiction?

Iruma closes the tab robotically, and reblocks the page and her name.

\--

The afterparty is in full swing. There was a bar event hosted by Team Dangan Ronpa earlier that evening, a live Q&A after airing some of the highlights of the season.

Iruma isn’t thinking about that now. She focused on having a good time with people she doesn’t know. Sure, she made an embarrassing mess of the whole event - but who cares now? She got really drunk (she’s still really drunk), and insulted all her (co-workers? Friends? People? What are they?) - the other people on the panel. The atmosphere was heavy, and she knew she was pushing buttons, but she couldn’t stop. Not like she had any friends up there to lose.

Iruma could feel their eyes on her. Maki wasn’t even trying to hide it, and Gonta physically couldn’t stop himself looking like a gormless idiot as Iruma went on, firing filth after profanity after insult. Of course they want to push all the blame on someone amazing like her! They were trying to pull the blame game on her now instead of Tsumugi, since she was telling the truth! Stuff those dickless perverted virgin losers didn’t want to hear.

Cuckhara and Asskamatsu tried talking to her afterwards, when they were being whisked away backstage. She still had it in her head that she was their leader and she cared, and that he was the protagonist or their FTE’s meant something.

All Iruma could think of when Fuckihara talked at her was about the porno glasses. She gave him porn. Of herself. Porn she recorded. She recorded porn. She can remember it, thank god they didn’t put on TV, they saw it, someone saw it. Some greasy old guy probably, lots of old people, laughing at her, what did they think of her? She feels bile rise up. She furious, how dare he reject that, isn’t that what guys want!? She doesn’t want to listen to them anymore, she never wants to see their faces ever fucking again.

“...your friends. Do you understand?” Kaeidiot finishes up.

“Huh?” Iruma forget they were there, suddenly afraid. She instantly holds herself. She read somewhere it was called a self-hug, people who aren’t loved enough as children do it.

But she sees the sidelong glance they give each other, clearly annoyed. Isn’t that nice! A dick and an asshole getting along, being all buddy-buddy. Who’da thunk! Like they were ever actually friends. She can’t stand it. Iruma suddenly wishes she had her backpack, she could slam both their heads together. It would be such a satisfying crunch. She’s horrified at the thought.

“U-uh.. Yeah.” Iruma blinks, shaking herself mentally. She stares both of them in the eyes, _fake it till you make it_. What would TV Iruma say? “Hya hya hya! Well ain’t it nice that you’re bein’ so honest! Talk to ya both later!”

Turning on her heel, Iruma beelines it for the exit. She knows they hate her, they all hate her. Why were they even talking to her? Do they feel like they know her? Do they feel like she owes wimpy femdom loving cucks like that her time?

Well, at least she gave them something to talk about. Hopefully everyone can leave her alone now, she doesn’t want to hear from them. She knows what they think, she watched the episodes.

(She cried; not at her death. What hurt was that... none of them _cared_ when she died. She got choked out by fucking toilet paper, yet it didn’t hurt as much as their cold remarks. Acting like they were all above her, but in reality they were just waiting for her to be gone to say what they really thought. She doesn’t get it - how come she’s bad when she’s just saying what's on her mind?)

She’s nearly the exit doors now, she speeds up, almost falling in her desperation to get away and she walks straight into Gonta.

“Erk- Gonta!” Iruma hisses, gripping onto her head, trying to make the floor stop moving. “Stop letting your dick do all the thinkin’ for you, ya big lug!”

It’s like going headfirst into a brick wall, she can feel her head spinning. But of fucking course, he looks delighted that she talked to him first.

“Iruma! Thank you for talking to Gonta again! Gonta wanted to-”

Iruma ignores him. “Go suck a dog dick.”

She doesn’t want _more_ fucking therapy talks from a bunch of nobodies. She hears Gonta call after her, but she breaks out into a sprint for the door. Rushing into the chill of the night, tearing through the car provided by Team Dangan Ronpa and telling them to fucking _drive already._

Now is better, she doesn’t have to think about all that. The music is pumping, it would shake the walls if the place wasn’t black with people, soaking up the noise. The lights are low, making everyone look better and cooler than in the daylight. Iruma loves it, she can stop thinking for while. She can find someone easy to go home with, and they’ll love her for it. The power of choice almost makes her prowl around, but she settles for people to approach her first, slamming back drink after drink as the night goes on.

Drinks kept getting put in Iruma’s hand, her cup is never empty. Everyone wants to buy a drink of the glamorous genius Iruma Miu! She’s the good time gal, the person everyone came to see. It’s so different from house parties she’s been to before all this.

Before, everyone thought she was some easy girl (she’s still easy).

Now, though, now she has chasers. It’s not that she means too, but Iruma prefers that most nights she has someone to sleep beside. She doesn’t want to go back to her flat where she sees those other fuckheads who don’t speak to her, where she can’t sleep, where she’s alone.

It doesn’t matter that when she leaves that she feels numb - she can deal with that in the daytime. She can take her castmates stares as she wanders in at piss o’clock in the morning. She tells herself that it’s what famous people do; they fuck other people, it’s about the power trip. It gets people off. It’s the only reason why people want to get big. All those adoring fans, willing to spend time with you, to be near you. They’d do anything for a small fame of their own or because it’s nobodies who want to see how somebodies live.

She means, who wouldn’t want to be with the ten outta ten goddess Iruma Miu?

This chick has been chatting her up for the better part of 40 minutes. Iruma didn’t catch her name over the BPMs, but it’s not like it’s her name that matters here. The girl’s shorter than Iruma, and has a cute, round face that’s easy on the eyes. She’s laughing at everything Iruma says, her choppy washed-out grey hair bouncing along with every word. Iruma wants to find out if she’ll giggle when Iruma fingers her. She’s different from the other fans Iruma sleeps with, she’s more honest, innocent.

She’s leaning forward enough so Iruma can “accidently” look at her cleavage. The causal touch is starting to get more frequent, the press of their bodies lasting longer each time. Iruma’s so buzzed. Growing bold (and horny), she wraps her arm around the girl’s waist and rests it there. She could’ve never done this before, but with the high of the booze and the fame, she’s getting braver.

She presses their outer thighs together, the heat from the girl makes Iruma flush more than she already is. The girl smiles at her, making Iruma hotter. For some reason, Iruma can’t stop bouncing her leg rapidly. Whatever, pre-sex nerves.

The girl smiles up at her, “I love Iruma Miu.”

Iruma can’t stop herself, she beams. She leans in quickly, pressing their lips together. She shuts her eyes tightly, suddenly overcome with the urge to cry. She must be coming up to her period, there’s no reason why’d she be this emotional over some random fuck.

“Iruma,” Iruma’s ear twitches, overhearing her name. Probably some perverted fans who are creaming their pants over some basic girl on girl action. Haven’t they heard of porn on the internet that they can wank off in the privacy in their own home?  

“Iruma!” The girl touches her shoulder, trying to push her back? Iruma brings up her own arms from the girl’s waist to the girl’s shoulders, trying to rekindle the moment.

Iruma snaps open her eyes. That’s someone else’s hand on her shoulder. She spins around, ready to fire abuse (or more likely, cry) at whoever this creep is.

Iruma wants to scream and cry out in rage when her eyes land on Gonta. He’s completely out of place here. He’s still in his goddamn moth-bitten suit and, Iruma has to check, he’s still not wearing any shoes either. For some reason, it makes her furious.

Gonta bows suddenly, nearly knocking several people down in the process. “Gonta is sorry that Gonta interrupted,” He shouts over the music and people, “Can Gonta talk to you?!”

The girl’s a mix between star-struck and frustrated from being clam jammed by another NDVR3 cast member. Everyone’s eyes are on them. Iruma doesn’t even pretend that underneath the ear thumping music everyone is muttering about them. She’s ready to start yelling herself, ready to run off to this girl’s place and never remember this humiliating moment.

But it looks like Iruma’s not getting a choice. Before she can open her mouth, Gonta’s already dragging her down the hallway and through the front door.

He finally lets go when they get far enough away from the house, the music softly wafting behind them. It’s too quiet out here.

Iruma rubbed on the arm Gonta had pulled on, trying go get some feeling back into it. It doesn’t hurt now, but she knows in the morning it’ll be sore. It makes Iruma grind her teeth together, can’t she have something nice for once?

“Gonta sorry,” He has his arms raised in front of him, almost if she’s expecting Iruma to deck him. “But Gonta no wait longer. This Gonta only chance.”

Iruma doesn’t want to hear this shit. She’s sick of it. Sick of people thinking they know better, sick of people talking at her, thinking they can dump all these fucking stupid feelings that don’t matter because she doesn’t care. Why can’t she have fun? Just because she’s not messed up like the rest of these rejects doesn’t mean they can drag her down to their level. Why does he keep trying?

Gonta looks down, gathering himself and Iruma sees her chance.

She makes a dash towards him and pushes Gonta hard. Iruma put all her strength into that shove, and watches him stumble back.

“Iruma!” He cried, “What was that for?!” Gonta looks like a kicked puppy. Iruma tells her to regret it later. She tells herself that a lot.

She feels braver.

“You can stop talking like such a fucking idiot, you know.” Iruma snaps.

He flinches, shoulders falling and ends up looking somewhere by Iruma’s shoes. He won’t stop blinking. Is he crying? Iruma wants to scream, _get_ **_angry_** _, for fuck’s sake, it’s over. It’s over._ She wants to shake him, over and over, make him understand, get him to be anything other that some shitty fictional character that didn’t ever exist.

Suddenly, she remembers right after they’d gotten out of the game, Ouma had gotten Team DanganRonpa to facilitate their ‘group talks’ about what had happened. They talked a lot about _feelings_ and _being sorry_ and whatever other sugar coated bullshit that was supposed to make them feel better. It made her sick, looking at Ouma. She wished she’d killed him.

She had ignored all of Ouma’s pathetic attempts at forgiveness, but Gonta had practically fallen over himself to be friends again. She bit her tongue, forcing herself not to remind Gonta that the boy in front of them had tricked him into murder and then left him to have a mental breakdown on 1920 x 1080 HD prime time television.

Didn’t he understand? Didn’t Gonta know that he was a real life person, who could have real life emotions?

She feels empty. So, so empty inside. Nothing will fix it. Maybe, Iruma tells herself, if she can get Gonta to react, maybe she can feel better. She wants him down at her level. She wants him to feel the exact fucking same, she wants him to have an honest reaction. Maybe she’ll feel something if he does too.

Instead of Gonta giving her a taste of her own medicine, he wraps his massive arms around her. Iruma is too sluggish to react in time. She immediately freaks, squirming, drunkenly trying to hit him to let go let go let go.

Oh.

Gonta’s hugging her.

She feels all the fight drain from her. She can feel all the snot leaking down her nose, tears cascading down like waterfalls and she can’t catch her breath. When did she start crying? She feels her tears soaking into Gonta’s shirt, the patch getting larger and larger. She doesn’t bother to move, she’s so bone-tired. Tired of trying, tired of fighting, tired of _being_.

Belatedly, Iruma realises this has been the first time she’s been hugged in a long time. It’s okay. She’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I basically vented ft Iruma. I'v never really written a srs fic and this was my first attempt. It ended up like 6k on google docs. 
> 
> Also read A Better Boy, another iruma x kiibo fic which i cried at. I still cry about it. It's great.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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